Flexible
by MercilesslyMerciful
Summary: People change, situations change, and dreams change. It's Noel Williams' goal to remain flexible.


**Good evening ladies and gents. The other day I was on a run and this idea came to me. This is just a "tester" chapter, so if y'all like this let me know so I can continue! Thanks for reading. **

**x Leah**

I hold my wand in front of me as the other wizard I am dueling with staggers onto their feet.

"Serpensortia," The Slytherin slurs.

The snake flies out towards me, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't surprised.

Quickly I direct my wand in the direction of the snake, "Avis!" Immediately the scaly creature bursts into a hundred small birds.

"Expelliarmus!" I cast the spell with a smug smile as I watch his wand fly to the other side of the room.

Our teacher begins to clap, assuming the duel had ended, but Professor Walsh doesn't realize that I'm not finished with this punk yet.

I advance towards the wizard, "Reducto!"

The boy, Peter, was blown backwards several steps. I take this time to move forward even more, putting me in a prime position to cast another spell.

Now at this time, I bet you are wondering what sent me into such a tizzy that I would attack a defenseless opponant.

There's honestly a logical explanation.

He's fucking annoying and he's as dumb as asses come. Peter is practically asking for it.

My mouth opens but my words are cut short by the strong and familiar voice of someone behind me. "Expelliarmus!"

Fuck.

My name is Noel Williams, I've been told that I am an exceptionally blunt and sarcastic person. I don't have the slightest clue where people get that notion from.

My family life is complicated to say the least, but every great wizard has a tangled mess of a home. My father is a pure blood, but not one of those swanky ones, he works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes as a Muggle-worthy Excuser. Long title, short description, he is a P.R. for the wizards to the muggles; Now you see where my creative and enthusiastic persona comes from.

My mum on the other-hand, is a completely different story. To be blunt, she's fucking crazy. Mummy dearest, was a death eater or a follower of Voldemort; Even after Voldemort got his ass handed to him, she refuses to let go of her old ways.

After Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, the death eaters were hunted and the majority were sent to Azkaban. However, a select few remain still and manage to congregate underground. That little bomb is kept secret from the world. Besides our family and the death eaters that my mum meets with, no one knows. I mean, can you imagine the face of Headmaster Flitwick if he found out my mom death eater? Everything would fall to shit, that's for sure.

Roger and Denise Williams, the role model for all families and couples in the wizarding world.

I attend Hogwarts, but what wizard or witch doesn't. I'm in the Gryffindor house in my seventh year, and I am seventeen years old.

It surprises me how I am at the top of my class, how I've always been at the top of my class. How you ask I am at the top of my class? I don't have the slightest clue, since I don't give a shit about my grades.

My friends at jail—excuse me—school include: Albus Potter, Delilah Kraut, Scorpious Malfoy, Kim and Trevin Wright, and of course the Weasley kids. Apparently I have a limited selection of friends because I'm not the mostagreeable person, their words not mine, to get along with; Their loss.

The only person who I seem to not get along with is Al's brother, James. We're both Gryffindor's, seventh years, and he's barely a year older than me. Ever since the first day though, he gets under my skin and I his.

I spin around furiously, not even bothering to watch my wand zoom out of my grip. My narrowed eyes widen as I realize who I am practically face-to-face with, James Potter.

"You had no right." I growl as I attempt to brush past him.

James hand grips my arm, hauling me back in front of him, "Noe, he was already down." He reminds me in a tone that was shaking to retain it's calm composure.

"I don't give a hippogriff's ass if he was down!" I reply with a scowl as I run a hand through my tangled hair out of frustration.

James' face begins to crack with a smirk, "Williams, I understand. Peter is a complete douche, but now your ass is in detention and he's going to be out of class for a week. I don't see your logic in this at all." He murmurs to me just as Professor Walsh grabs my arm and drags me off the platform.

I hear James chuckle to himself as he slips his wand into his back pocket before Professor Walsh turns back around. "You too, Potter."

Professor Walsh doesn't turn to address James' exasperated expression, she simply continues to yank me out of the room expecting him to follow.

"You two are far too bright to be doing foolish things like this." Walsh reprimands.

James groans dramatically, "Professor, I was stopping Noel from blasting Peter's brains out!" he informs her.

Walsh disregards his words before turning to face the both of us, "Report to the Pitch at nine o'clock, you'll be scraping the bird droppings off of the goals."

"We have detention together?" I ask quickly.

Professor Walsh nods wearily, "Until then, I want you two in your Common Room. If I even hear a whisper of either of you leaving before nine o'clock, I'll make it double detention." She warns before pivoting on her heel and walking back into the classroom.

James turns to me shaking his head. "All you do is pull me into trouble."

Rolling my eyes I begin to lose my cool, "You didn't have to jump in—"

He cuts me off as his hand encircles my left wrist. There were light black lines that appeared to be burned into my arm that were fading away into my normal skin color.

"Noel?"

I shake my head and walk ahead of him, answering his persistent and rather loud questions with a kind flash of a particular finger.

Hearing him muttur a few curse words behind me, I know that he has dropped his interrogation at the moment but this isn't the last I'll hear of this. I'm positive of that.

I might have forgotten to mention that little detail when I was describing myself. It seems that both the dark and light have waged claims on me.

My mother created a hex of sorts that branded a Dark Mark onto my arm at a young age. Through the years, my father has been able to inhibit the physical presence of it. But whenever I lose my head the mark breaks through all of the positive enforcement.

The downside to my father's efforts is that if I ever go off-the-wall, completely fucking crazy mad, that mark will burn back into my skin permanently. Once it comes back, it's just a matter of time before the evil of the mark takes over my entire being.

I'm nothing like my mother. I won't let myself turn completely dark. I'm hungry. Professor Walsh can eat bird shit. James can go die in a hole. But it would be a nice hole.

The fuck was that?

**By the by, if any of you would like pictures of the characters…I would gladly find a way to post them since the banner for this story lacks them. Thanks again, loves! x Leah **


End file.
